Swiftly flew the ship
by tewig
Summary: No one knows how to explain the strange ship that sailed over the sea and landed on the shores of Four. Katniss and Gale are sent to investigate. A mission one-shot. Post-MJ & a perfect sonnet.
1. Chapter 1

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_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games and all related copyrights belong to Suzanne Collins. Just borrowing._

_A/N: Anyone miss vanilla bean's "a perfect sonnet"? Well, I missed it so much I started writing this little story, and she's kindly given me her permission to publish this little mission one-shot. One-shot in the sense that it'll be short (hopefully), and it centres around one of Katniss's missions with the squad._

_If you haven't read her masterpiece yet, where have you been? It's hands down the best post-MJ sequel. This story takes place shortly after Gale and Katniss's steamy reunion. As you remember, she joins President Paylor's elite squad in charge of ensuring Panem's safety and security. So what happens when a mystery ship docks in Four? What will they find?_

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There are days when Gale wakes, and she's already up, lying on her side and watching him like a cat. He wants to rub his eyes in disbelief, but this isn't the first time it's happened, and more than once means its real, right? Sometimes, if it's dark enough, he'll raise a hand to her cheek, bringing her in for a kiss that often escalates into a fierce, furious blur of passion. Before she came back, he thought he'd seen it all, been there, done that. Sex with Reeva was mere sport, a form of weekly entertainment. But with Katniss, it's like nothing he's ever felt before. He completely loses his mind when he's in her. When they come together it's almost as if Gale Hawthorne disappears. There's nothing in the here and now except for this insane, mind-fucking flame that connects and incinerates them at the same time.

But this morning, it's almost light when he stirs, the faintest beams of grey dawn streaming in under the blinds. The sheets beside him are wrinkled and she's not there. Panic seizes him for a moment before rationality takes over, and he hears the sound of the tap running in the bathroom. It's been two months since that fateful morning when she appeared on his doorstep, but he still can't shake the occasional fear that he's living in a blissful dream and one day he'll wake up, like now, and find her gone.

"Gale?" She's standing in the doorway, wondering why he's staring at her spot on the bed with such a curious expression. But his face breaks out in a boyish smile when he turns and catches her eye, and she fights hard to resist the urge to crawl back into bed with him. Then they'd never get up, and they have a plane to catch in an hour. "We need to get going," she reminds him in a gentle voice as she goes over to his side and plants a kiss on his forehead.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" He grumbles, pulling her back in for a longer kiss. She'll never tire of his kisses_—_every one says a different thing. With Peeta, kisses were pure, simple shows of affection, an expression of love. But Gale's a physical person, and sometimes he communicates better with his touch than his words. Of course, the possibility also strikes her that she's just so attuned to his body language, perhaps even more so after reaching this new plane in their relationship. His kiss this morning is demanding, and his hand clings on to her arm even after they break apart. It makes her wonder if he was doing that thing again, doubting her sincerity in staying here and making their relationship work. For good measure, she leans in and finds his lips again, trying to dispel the flicker of worry she caught in his eyes. He seems a little more satisfied that she's not about to disappear, and they finally get out of bed, dressing and heading out of the house.

It's a short, forty-five minute flight to the military airport at District Four, and they each make use of the time to go over the case notes filed by Rhys Flint, the district's security chief. After the war, the Peacekeeping forces were dismantled, but there was still a need for local law and enforcement. From the dregs of the rebellion army, Paylor picked a trusted officer from each district, tasking them with the responsibility of drafting and training their own security forces. It worked as long as each district's chief remained loyal to Paylor and the Capitol, but the risk of individual fiefdoms developing was always present. There's been talk of raising a national army, but memories of Snow's brutal Peacekeepers go back a long way and there's still strong resistance against the Capitol possessing a large uniform presence across all districts.

Their mission to Four is classified as green or low-risk, meaning they are there to investigate, not engage in any combat action, and to return with intelligence for Paylor and the team to decide on the next course of action. But Gale can't deny this is one of the strangest missions he's ever encountered. Four lines the westernmost edge of Panem, with a long jagged coastline that seems to have no end. One summer at Annie's, he tried jogging as far north as possible, beyond the forest, just for kicks. The gradient was uphill all the way, and by midday he was exhausted and still the coast went on for miles, farther than he could see.

Four is the frontier, the youngest district in Panem. The air there is different, and it always holds the possibility of new discovery to Gale. But no one knows what to do with the strange boat of aliens that landed on its shores last week. There were nine of them, looking like nothing anyone ever saw in the whole of Panem. They were definitely human, but their bodies were so malnourished, their hair so wild and skin dehydrated by exposure to the elements, it was hard to tell their ages and sex. Three females, post-pubescent, and six males, estimated between twenty and forty, Rhys had written in his report. The nine aliens spoke in a foreign tongue that nobody could understand. It was Panem's first recorded contact with the outside world in over a hundred years.

And no one knows what this means.

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_A/N Please let me know if you like this! The next update is ready, just waiting for your review :)_


	2. Chapter 2

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_Disclaimer: Nope, THG doesn't belong to me. Grateful for the practice though._

_A/N: Man, I love you guys. I get less hits but so much more love writing for the Hunger Games fandom than Twilight. Thank you everyone for__ your feedback on the first chapter! So happy and encouraged to hear your thoughts :) Please enjoy!_

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Rhys Flint isn't quite what Katniss imagined. She's not sure what she expected, maybe someone more like Bolts, a wizened veteran. But she definitely didn't bet on meeting another Finnick Odair. With his bronzed skin, sun-kissed hair tied back in a ponytail, and calm blue eyes, Rhys looks more like a surfer who's spent too much time at the beach than the seasoned commander of ten thousand men, one of the largest security contingents in Panem. Do they all look like this in Four? She doesn't quite remember from her previous visit, but then again, most of that trip was spent at Annie's house. It feels like a different time in her life already, even though it was less than a few months ago.

Gale's met Rhys before, and he's well aware of the effect he has on women, so he observes Katniss with a cautious eye as she greets him. She blinks, before recovering and shaking his hand. What was that about? He keeps his possessiveness in check, but makes a mental note to ask her later.

"Shall we start with the ship or the crew?" They get down to business immediately. Despite his ridiculous good looks, Rhys has a sturdiness and reassuring efficiency about him that reminds Gale of Paylor, and he supposes that Katniss aside, he actually quite respects this fellow.

Deciding to make use of the daylight, they venture to the docks first, where the alien ship is anchored. Neither of them are much familiar with marine vehicles, but this vessel looks like nothing they've seen in Four. About fifty feet long, it has two large sails that loom from each half, like the wings of a butterfly, while the body is crafted from a deep-coloured wood.

"Either of you know much about sailing?" Rhys asks, and they reply with a shake of their heads.

"Back in the day, before the age of nuclear, boats were all powered by wind," he explains, pointing at the two wings. _Could this fly?_ Gale wonders.

"As our grandfathers tell us," Rhys continues, "Panem was discovered by voyagers traveling on boats like these."

They both gasp in shock, as though Rhys just uttered a blasphemous statement. As far as they know and were taught in school, Panem is the only country in the universe, bordered on all shores by water. There are other uninhabited islands, but these are dangerous, teeming with threatening man-eating creatures. Panem is the world, as every history and geography textbook declares. But Gale never believed this. He knows, given his position, that Paylor has commissioned a secret investigation into the National Archives, which were sealed and kept under lock and key when Snow was in power. But until their first report is completed, he has no answers about their origins. Evidently though, local folklore in Four has preserved its own oral history of Panem.

Rhys glances at them with a curious expression. "Surely you don't still believe that humans just popped up on Panem." But that's exactly what they teach in the schoolbooks, Katniss thinks to herself. She decides to find out more.

"Nobody really believes that, I guess, but they haven't really provided a better explanation, either way," she reasons. "Or do you think we evolved from monkeys?" That's another theory which was sacrilegious during Snow's reign, but one that was widely believed, at least in Twelve.

Her question does nothing but prompt a laugh from Rhys.

"Monkeys? Seriously?"

Katniss can't help but feel a little slighted by his reaction. She stands a little straighter, raising her head as she tries to think of an answer that won't make her sound like a country bumpkin.

"Hey, I didn't mean to insult you or anything." He pats her arm to assure her. "Over here, most people think Panem was born out of the flood." He cocks an eyebrow, mirorring the disbelief forming on her face.

"The flood?" Katniss's eyes widen. Now, that's something she hasn't heard before.

"Ah. That's a story for another time." Catching her elbow, he pulls her down the gangway, and that's when she realizes Gale is missing, or rather, he's far ahead of them, already on the deck. He's standing by one of the sails, examining the enormous mast that stretches at least twenty feet high, and appears to be knocking on the post and pressing his ear to the wood.

"See anything you like?" Rhys calls out to him as they cross the ramp, joining him on board.

"This looks strange." Pen knife in hand, Gale scrapes at the tall column that holds the sail, peeling off a strip of wood which he first sniffs, then holds up to the sun. "I don't think this is native to Panem. It's got some kind of coating on it too."

"You've hit the nail on the head." Rhys's voice takes on a solemn quality. "Nothing on this ship is like anything we've seen in Panem—at least, not in a hundred years."

"What?" It takes a while for his words to settle in for Katniss, but Gale catches on straightaway.

"So you're saying this is something straight out of a different era, pre-Panem." Katniss notices the unmistakable glint in Gale's eye.

"I've not actually seen something like this. Not with my own eyes." Rhys briefly points out the unique characteristics of this boat: there's no motor or engine; apparently it's controlled by a few simple ropes which are looped onto horizontal slats laid flat in a neat row across the sails. "But I've heard plenty about these ships. We've not used these in a long time, but some of the older folk still remember."

"Is there anyone who could tell us more?" Katniss asks. She has a feeling they're about to dive deeper into the question of monkeys and floods.

"Come to think of it, yes." His eyes light up. "Ever heard of Rowley Odair?"

"Odair?" They both repeat at the same time.

"Yes. He's Finnick's grandfather."

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_A/N Thanks for reading! It's been a while since I read the books, so if you notice anything amiss, please let me know. _

_I'll try to keep to a weekly posting schedule, but no promises given work and all that usual real-life malarkey. Reviews make me write faster! ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

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They make their way into town on a standard issue security vehicle, drawing curious stares as their armoured truck enters the town centre. It's less crowded than Katniss remembers, but perhaps it's to do with the time of the day. Rhys fills them in on the Odair family—they are Four's master weavers, producing the district's best fishing nets for generations. Finnick's grandfather is not just the patriarch of the family, he's also a well-respected community leader and was a key member of the underground resistance during Snow's reign.

Rhys eases his truck to a stop at the western corner of the market, parking outside a neat cluster of aging one-storey houses. But instead of heading in that direction when they get off, he turns and starts winding into the market, weaving in and out of the rows of stalls until they reach a central atrium. They see the circle of grey-haired men first. As Rhys approaches, one of them steps aside, revealing two chess players at a stone table, deep in concentration.

Katniss starts to speak, but Rhys touches her arm and raises a finger to his lips. The player with the white pieces raises his hand to make a move. Besides the two men sitting at the chessboard, there's a total of seven others standing around the table. She assesses each one with a critical eye, trying to identify Finnick's grandfather. Her bet is on the player with the black pieces, who counters with a quick attack on the white queen. He sits back with a smug look. When he glances at the audience and glimpses her, his eyes flicker with recognition, like light dancing off the crest of a wave.

Within minutes, the white king is checkmated and the game is over. Rhys takes a step towards the table and greets each men in turn. "Mr Odair." Katniss's guess is validated when the winner acknowledges him with a nod. He is about to take the initiative to introduce the two visitors from the Capitol, when Rowley Odair interrupts him.

"You must be Miss Everdeen." She feels oddly grateful that he doesn't call her Mockingjay like almost everyone else who meets her for the first time. He has the same messy blonde hair and sea green eyes she's seen in three generations of Odairs, and the same build as Finnick. But the years have worn him down and he steps towards them with a slight hunch and a limp in his left leg. She takes his outstretched hand, and can't help but manage a slight curtsy, which earns her a deep chuckle from the elder Odair.

Gale offers his hand, and introduces himself. Rowley stares at him for a moment, as if trying to place the face, but failing, grants him a polite smile.

"Young Flint. What can I do for you and your two visitors today?"

"Can you tell us about the flood?" Katniss blurts out before Rhys can respond, and his jaw falls slack.

"You can close your mouth, boy. We're no longer in the Stone Ages. It's a free world now. Right, Miss Everdeen?" His eyes twinkle at Katniss, and she beams in response.

"I think it's best we go somewhere more … " Rhys pauses, glancing at the curious eyes watching them. "Private," he mumbles in a half-whisper.

"Private?" Rowley Odair obviously has no interest in maintaining discretion. "You want to hear our stories, right girl?" Somehow, the way he addresses her is full of affection and doesn't make her cringe like she might otherwise. She nods with enthusiasm. "Then there's no one better than my men here." With a sweep of a hand, he gestures at his comrades around the table. "They know the stories just as well, or even better than I do."

She sees Gale and Rhys both assess the crowd with hesitation in their eyes, each for their own reasons. But somehow, she feels like she can trust Odair, and he's about to let them in on a big secret. Without waiting for his invitation, she commandeers a stool and positions herself next to him. Behind her, she senses Gale shifting in a protective stance—it's adorable and amusing at the same time how he watches out for her, even when there's absolutely nothing to worry about. She's positive that Rowley Odair will turn out to be a darling.

"So, you've never heard of the flood." It's more a statement than a question, and there's a twinkle in Odair's eye as he glances at them. Katniss shakes her head, urging him on, while Gale purses his lips. "It's a legend around here." A few of his men nod.

"A long time ago, the earth was thirty percent land, the rest of it water and ice. Do you know how that's changed?"

Without waiting for her answer, he continues. "Well, now we're almost a hundred percent water. The zero point ninety nine percent that is land, is Panem. That's what the experts say." Somehow, the way he says it sounds like he doesn't believe this at all.

"A long time ago, way before the time of your grandfather or my grandfather, there was what we call the Old World. Billions of people walked the earth, of all shapes, colours, and sizes." Katniss can't help but draw in a sharp breath. Panem's last census, taken after the war, totalled just under fifteen million. The zeroes in the number mentioned by Odair is mind-boggling. _Could there have been so many humans, ever? What happened to them?_

"But mankind was selfish. Wasteful. The two great powers, Borra and Lapidor competed for years to outdo each other, accumulating more and more resources, from food, to weapons, to energy, and finally nuclear bombs." The tone of his voice turns ominous.

"What happened next, you could call divine intervention. Perhaps God was unhappy." Gale's interest piques. God? He knows what the word means, but it during Snow's time. Even then there were always people, especially in the countryside, who would mention Him in hush, revered tones. Now, with the opening of the Archives, everything is being questioned again. The way Odair speaks, it sounds like he has never stopped believing.

"There was a bomb, built by a group of scientists from Lapidor. It had enough energy to make everything go up in pieces. To make mankind extinct." The air is still as he pauses, eyes grim as he surveys everyone's reaction. No one breathes, no one speaks.

"And this bomb went off?" Katniss can't bear the suspense.

"None of us would be here, my dear girl, if that bomb went off." A collective sigh of relief ripples around her, which puzzles her. Haven't they all heard this before? But then she realizes that even Gale, the skeptic is caught up in the moment. And she suspects that Odair is such a master storyteller, that no one tires of hearing him, again and again.

"Borra had their own team of scientists, of course. They got wind of the bomb, and found the only way to neutralise it was with water. Lots and lots of water."

"So they decided to flood the earth?"

"Close, young man, but not quite." Odair grins at Gale's question. "So, there was all this ice, and Borra's strength was water, they had the best ships, sailors and marine engineers. They came up with a plan to melt enough ice, channeling it towards Lapidor's bomb reactor."

"But there was a rogue operator within Borra's bomb team, and without authority, he set off one of the smaller explosives hoping to stop Lapidor's ice channel. This one explosion was enough to set off a chain reaction. For days afterward, the land convulsed with quakes and floods, triggering even more explosions as water flushed towards the bomb center."

Katniss's eye are wide with horror. How could there have been so much destruction wrought on this earth? And then she thinks back to the war, not so long ago and the days of the Hunger Games. No, man has not really learnt any lessons. Is war always inevitable?

"Everything was up in the air, and whatever was not, was soon submerged underwater," Odair continues. "When the shaking finally stopped, the survivors gathered to take stock of what was left. They were alive, the sun still rose in the east and set in the west, but all they could see around them was water.

This land, my friend, was called Panem."

Silence falls like a blanket over the crowd. Katniss is the first to speak.

"If everything around them was exploding … and there was water everywhere … how could anyone have survived?"

Odiar turns away from her, and casts his eyes to the sea. He speaks at a slow pace, enunciating every word clearly.

"My dear girl, I think you already know the answer."

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_A/N Sorry this was a little late! I'm kind of bashful in front of the computer screen, but I just wanted to say a big THANK YOU to all of you who have reviewed and favourited this story. It's been a while since I read the books, so do let me know if I got anything wrong. Or if you just want to say hi, that's fine too :)_

_Follow me on Twitter at **xtewigx**_


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

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_Disclaimer: THG's not mine. Just having some creative fun._

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The aftershocks of Rowley Odair's story ricochet in the metallic interior of the security truck as they travel to the district prison in the north. They've been on the road for almost an hour now, and no one has spoken more than a few words at a time, each searching for their own interpretation to Odair's words. Gale glances at Katniss through the rear view mirror. She's hunched forward, forehead pressed against the window as they zip up the coastline, climbing further and further uphill. Rhys' forehead is creased, a faraway look in his eyes as he maneuvers around a series of bends. It's an overcast afternoon, and the ocean's almost black without the sun, charging at the cliffs with ferocity.

"Could those ships really be from Borra?" He decides to raise the question he's sure must be on everyone's mind.

Rhys looks up, his expression like a startled deer. "They're just legends, you know." He finally answers.

"There's got to be a reason why these stories exist." Gale's tone is firm. As soon as he gets back to the Capitol, he's going to the National Archives.

"Well, that's what we're going to find out, right?" Katniss quips. This will be her first visit to a prison, and she's not sure what to expect. A small fear nibbles at her otherwise stoic demeanor: what sort of evil will she see in the eyes peering at her from behind the bars? Human darkness isn't foreign to her, it cloaked her childhood and permeated the air during the Hunger Games. Playing the Mockingjay was her way of preventing it from sinking roots into her heart. In a way, it's also why she volunteered to join the squad, without any hesitation. But she can't deny that it unsettles her, just like the glimpse she had of Atlas's eyes before releasing the arrow.

"Have you met the—" Gale pauses, unsure what to call them. Borra-nese? Lapidorians? "—them yet." He settles for the collective pronoun.

"You mean the aliens?" Rhys clearly has less qualms using the word. "Yes, I apprehended them when they landed."

"Did they like, just walk off the gangway onto the docks?"

"No, of course not." Rhys looks a tad offended by his remark. "Our surveillance team spotted them from a few miles out. My deputy and his crew went on board, steering the ship to shore."

"They didn't even put up a fight?"

"Yes, but according to Marlin, most of them seemed pretty dehydrated. We had the ship under control in minutes."

Gale doesn't understand. Wherever they came from, and if they really were descendants from the great Borranese sailors, why would they have embarked on this journey without sufficient food and water? None of this makes sense. He glances at Katniss again, and she seems to be deep in thought. She must be mulling some theory of her own; he's realised over the past few weeks that she has a certain canniness when it comes to such things, an instinct perhaps honed through the Games and the war, that complements him and makes them an even better team than he could ever have hoped for. Or maybe it's just a woman's instinct. He deliberates over whether to ask her now or in private, but before he can decide, a shrill ringing cuts through the air.

"Flint speaking." Rhys places the phone between his cheek as he continues to steer their truck on the mountainous highway. "Yes, we're almost there—no, what?" They screech to a complete halt by the slip road.

"You gotta be kidding me." His face colours, and Gale cranes his ear, trying but failing to catch the conversation. The voice on the other end of the line sounds agitated, speaking at a machine-gun pace.

"Roger." Rhys glances at his two passengers. "I'll let them know." He returns his phone onto the dashboard, shifting the gear into reverse.

"What?" Gale doesn't like being held in suspense.

"Visit's off, Hawthorne." Rhys's voice is almost caustic. "There was a disturbance at the prison."

"No way."

"Yes sir. One of the aliens just died."

"That doesn't mean we can't go and meet the rest of the group." Annoyance creeps into Gale's voice. And they were so close to—well he's not sure they could actually have a proper conversation, not speaking the same language at all, but at least he might have some answers by tonight.

"Well, they broke out in riot, and the warden's just sedated the whole lot."

"You're kidding." Katniss speaks up.

Rhys rests his hand on the armrest, and turns to look at her. She holds his gaze evenly. "What do you mean?"

"They're not animals." Her words are blunt and to the point.

To Gale's surprise, Rhys's eyes soften, and his voice is calm and measured as he addresses her. "You're absolutely right, Miss Everdeen. I can assure you that sedatives are only used in life-threatening situations at our prisons. If our warden hadn't acted, we might be dealing with something far more serious."

Katniss assesses his expression. "I see," she answers after a long pause.

"Well, since we can't do the visit today, let's make our way back. Are you staying at Annie's again?" Gale nods in response. "I'll drop you off at her place." He steps on the gas and their truck roars back onto the road, heading in the opposite direction.

The sun sinks further and further into the sea as they meander back along the coastal highway. It's almost dark by the time they reach the small cluster of homes by the beach, south of the town square. They disembark, Gale reaching into the trunk to retrieve their duffel bags as Rhys turns off the engine.

"What time shall we set off tomorrow? Eight?" Gale's tone is clipped and impatient.

"I'll call you."

To his surprise, Rhys gets off as well. The door opens, and little Finnick bounds out of the door, off the porch towards the visitors. Gale sets down their bags and opens his arms, ready to welcome the little imp. But to his shock and consternation, the boy jumps straight into the arms of the man behind him.

"Ree! You're back!" Rhys lifts the boy up and twirls him in the air.

Gale freezes, his mouth hanging open.

"You seem flabbergasted." Katniss fights the amusement in her voice as she comes up behind him. His arm falls slack at her touch.

"I—" He tries to speak. Nothing except air comes out.

"Hi Gale. Katniss." Annie emerges from the house wearing an apron. The air fills with the smell of hickory and the tanginess of lemon and onions. "You're just in time for dinner."

Gale's eyes are on Finnick, and Katniss's on Gale, so neither of them catch the look that passes between her and Rhys as he sets the boy back on the ground.

"Well," Rhys speaks first. "I'd best be headed back."

"I made your share."

"Yes, please stay." Something about her expression prompts Katniss to speak up. Unfortunately, Gale misreads her reaction, and a scowl crosses his already disgruntled face.

"Thanks, Annie. Maybe another time."

"Ree! I spent the whole afternoon helping Mommy bake your favourite pumpkin pie." Finnick reaches out to Rhys' pant leg, his tiny fingers clinging on for dear life.

It strikes Katniss that the vibes passing between Annie and Rhys are more than a little commonplace. On a whim and a random guess, she steps towards him.

"Oh come on." She cups his elbow, giving him a push towards the house. "You can tell us more about your aliens over dinner."

"Aliens?" Finnick squeals, still holding on to his pant leg. "Ree, you met aliens?" Katniss holds her tongue. She's almost forgotten what it's like to be around small children.

"Not quite, Finnie." Rhys reaches down, messing with his hair. "Alright, alright, I'll stay. But that pumpkin pie's all mine."

Finnie lets out a yelp of joy. "Let's go!" He steps forward, but as an afterthought, and perhaps in thanks, he turns and grabs Katniss with his free hand.

Behind them, Gale stands agape, watching as the little boy scampers back inside, holding onto Rhys and Katniss with each hand.

"Are you coming?" Annie's at the door, waving him over. Sighing, he crouches and picks up their bags. With a shake of his head, he steps onto the porch and enters the house.

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_A/N Review! Otherwise the next scene will just stay in my head :)_


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